


Birthday

by stateofintegrity



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:00:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26874817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stateofintegrity/pseuds/stateofintegrity
Summary: Klinger's celebration proves as unique as he is.
Relationships: Maxwell Klinger/Charles Emerson Winchester III
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	Birthday

Almost every member of the 4077th had benefited from a formal celebration at some point - whether they wanted it or not. BJ’s anniversary had been celebrated, along with Hawkeye’s birthday, Potter’s paid off mortgage, Margaret’s promotion, and Charles’ independence following a fake wedding. So, when Hawkeye Pierce looked around for someone to use as an excuse for a celebration, he settled on Maxwell W. Klinger. Finding out the man’s birthdate was easy enough - October 6 - not that he would have cared if it was January. In an unacknowledged war, things like dates just weren’t that important. Far more significant was the theme for said party - a mad but inspired choice that had his friends rolling their eyes and yelling at him. Hawk didn’t care; he was doing this for the plucky Corporal. When the others balked, he reminded them of Klinger’s service.

To Mulcahy: “Who got you enough food when the orphanage had to expand - at prices you could afford?” 

To BJ: “Who helped you call home when Erin had to be hospitalized?” 

To Margaret: “Who singed his nose off digging in burning garbage piles for your ring?” 

To Winchester: “Who threw himself in front of you when the generator blew?” 

The grumbling ceased and the 4077th prepared for its first ever formal slumber party. It had to be late, Hawk insisted, because Klinger was on guard duty. And it had to be formal because Klinger loved to  _ see  _ clothes as much as he loved to create and model them. In fact, most of the presents were related to this aspect of the Corporal’s life: sewing needles, patterns, etc. 

“What did you get him?” BJ asked Hawk as they decorated the mess tent. 

Hawkeye gave that smile of his that would have seduced angels and worried demons. “Hopefully,  _ Charles _ .” 

***

The party was all anyone could have wished - at least for Korea. There was a cake, blown up gloves for balloons, dancing, and enough booze to drown two rice paddies twice over. Hawkeye stage managed until he was certain that almost everyone had danced with the birthday Corporal - leaving Klinger breathless, laughing, and dizzy. 

Charles had never seen him so radiant. 

But somehow he couldn’t get close to him even to wish him a happy birthday. At least he got to dress up for a change; it felt nice to wear civilian clothes. He’d even broken out the silk boxers he’d been saving for the trip home. It was a shame no one else was going to see them, but such was the hell of war. At least he was going to be comfortable for this absurd slumber party… which was actually disintegrating into a lot of tiny parties. There was a good deal of moaning in the mess tent corners. 

Taking a piece of cake, Charles stepped out into the cool night air. 

There on the steps to the mess in the moonlight, flakes of glittery confetti in his hair, was the inimitable center of the celebration, staring up at a moon that seemed near enough to plant kisses on his brow.  _ Museums would vie for a painting such as this _ , Charles thought.  _ The rich dark and the alien light… and you. Neither quite masculine nor feminine- maybe not even human or real.  _

“Oughtn’t you to be inside?” he asked the Corporal. 

Klinger shrugged. “It’s getting kind of crowded in the corners,” he said, not without a certain wryness. 

Charles was no good at talking about such things - even in allusions. He did know, however, how much Klinger liked icing (when they made it home, he intended to find an adventurous Toledo baker who would create a cake that was 90% icing and 5% sprinkles and send it to the man) so he removed the yellow rose from the cake and extended it. 

Klinger smiled his thanks, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Charles sat beside him. “You’re not enjoying your party, I take it?” 

“It’s real nice, sir. Just… it’s another year,  _ here _ , right?” He sighed. “That makes almost three, you know? And the way they keep changing the rules with service points…”

Charles squeezed one thin shoulder. “You will get to go home, Klinger.”

“Yeah. But to what? Most of my family left Toledo a year ago. Laverne got remarried. My friends were her friends and Gus’s friends… sorry, you don’t wanna hear about all this.” 

_ You are lonely here and fear that you will be lonely there, too _ , Winchester thought. “So, what did you wish for when you blew out your candles?” 

Klinger’s face crumpled for a moment. He looked out at the night sky. “Two things. To be invisible so Hawk doesn’t pick me for any more parties.” 

“And?”

“Or,” Klinger corrected. “Or for somebody to really see me, sir. To want to. Either one would be just fine. What people see… it’s the story, right? Crazy Klinger. The guy in a dress. The guy who’ll do anything for a section eight.” He sighed. 

Charles had not expected to be so affected by this conversation. He knew what it was to feel unseen, to be known by and for certain markers. 

“And, now, even if I got it, where would I go?” Then he came back to himself. “Sorry, Major. I really do sound crazy tonight. Just ignore me.” 

_ I have never been able to do so. How could anyone with galactic light glinting off of your lashes?  _ “Maxwell, no one is paying any attention to us. Shall we skip out on this party and go find something more suited to your wishes?”

Klinger’s face was earnest, hopeful. “You don’t think that’d be rude? Hawk did set the whole thing up and all…”

“Blame it on me. They expect nothing better from me, after all. You deserve some happiness on your birthday, Maxwell - on terms that are acceptable to you rather than those that allow the largest number of people to drink themselves into a stupor.”

“Thanks, Major.”

“My pleasure. Now, how would you have designed your celebration if anyone had bothered to ask?”

Klinger brightened. “I’ve got some baklava in my tent.”

“You do know they will open your presents, of course.”

Klinger shrugged. “Let ‘em. Nobody got me what I really want.”

“Nothing on that table did look section 8 shaped,” Charles agreed. 

“Nothing had air holes, either. I knew I wasn’t getting a section 8, but since Hawk started planning, I’ve been dropping hints.” 

“Hints about?”

“A cat. The Colonel has a horse and Radar basically had a zoo… thought I could maybe get something that liked to see me.” 

“You would sacrifice part of your meager wages on tuna and sardines?” 

Klinger shrugged. “It’d be nice to take care of something.” 

“Max, I have an idea.” 

That was how Corporal Maxwell Q. Klinger inspired Major Charles Emerson Winchester III to steal a jeep. 

***

The flashlight, Charles thought, was really a bit much. He shielded the eyes of the tiny kitten. “Whatever seems to be the matter, sir?” 

Things with the MPs went downhill from there. 

“Potter isn’t going to like this,” Klinger said from the jail cell. He wasn’t really worried; their CO wound untangle this and they’d be back at the 4077th by morning - and Hawkeye had done far crazier things. 

“Not quite the birthday I promised you,” Charles said. 

“It’s not too bad. My best friend and a kitten. And I already had cake.” 

Charles looked at his watch. “Max, I do not know if I could say this anywhere else. But only a few minutes of your birthday remain and I find that I would like to offer you one more present.” 

Then he tipped his head back in a kiss so deep and soft that it took Klinger twelve seconds to realize exactly what was going on. Then he wrapped himself so thoroughly around the Major that his new and nameless kitten crawled from his lap to Charles’ shoulder unnoticed by either man. 

“Happy birthday, Maxwell.” 

Charles did not take Maxwell’s suggestion to bribe the guard to give them more privacy, but he agreed that his birthday should be extended to make up for the time they spent imprisoned. After they’d been liberated and yelled at by their CO, they disappeared together to share baklava, kisses, and plans for the future. 

End! 

  
  
  
  



End file.
